What Lies in Truth
by SeraphimXII
Summary: As Michael is the weapon of Heaven- Dean is the weapon of Michael. Zachariah hadn't been lying when he told Dean they'd lost the Michael's Sword on Earth.
1. Chapter 1

**Title-** What Lies in Truth

**Series-** _Supernatural_

**Disclaimer- **I do not own.

**Warnings- **AU

**Character(s)/ Pairing(s)- **Dean

**Rating- T**

Dean stands in the empty clearing. A slight breeze wafts over the scent of blood and fire. Earth's moon reflecting soft light onto the carnage of the once battlefield. He breathes a sigh of contentment. Cricking his neck to relieve once-tense muscles. This wasn't enough. With adrenaline still fresh in his being, he wishes for more to fight. He still feels restless.

Dean hears a chuckle of weary amusement. For coming from someone he doesn't recognize, the sound doesn't startle him. It's not even unwelcome. The sound feels like a soothing balm. The blond-haired, green-eyed man gets a flash of thought both foreign and familiar when he glances at his companion. It's fleeting but the feeling it leaves behind lingers; building fear into the pit of his stomach. His breathe catches in his throat; body once again ready for the fight he'd just moments ago longed for.

Dean _knows_ this person. Even though, for the life of him, he's never seen this face before. He recognizes _him_.

And he _needs_ to get _away_.

But Dean only does a half-step nearer. His body not under his control he realizes.

When _he_ notices the attention he is receiving from the only other being in the field, he reacts in a way Dean didn't expect.

The light in_ his_ eyes diminishes to a degree. Whatever amusement _he_ held only moments ago is gone. Both put a pain in Dean that he doesn't understand.

_He_ opens his mouth and what he says has Dean's world crumbling around him. Literally. He's suddenly left floating in a suffocating darkness with only those two words to haunt him.

"_He Fell."_

…...

Dean shoots up from his motel bed, a cold sweat stuck to his brow. Sam lifts his head from his pillow, the questioning gaze set in his sleep fogged eyes.

"It was just a dream." He mutters getting up and heading into the bathroom. Sam is already nodding his head before slumping back into slumber. After all, it wasn't like Dean woke up screaming.

Dean splashes water onto his face and looks up into his reflection.

"It was just a dream." he repeats.

The words used to comfort Sam did no such thing for him.

**A/N**

So as I was trying to write up the next chapter to What Can Be Learned (something that is still undergoing work) This baby sprung up, and I just needed to write it up and post it. I know... how horrible of me.

:D SO review and tell me how you favor? Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

XII


	2. Chapter 2

The dream goes on the back burner of Dean's mind. He doesn't acknowledge it. Almost to the point where he actually forgets that he's had it at all. Not until the quiet of the night hits, the rare ones, when he isn't fearing immediate damnation that it sneaks up on him. That he remembers the not-memory. That he remembers how real the dream had been. A dream, because it couldn't really have been a memory.

That would be crazy talk.

For one, he didn't relish in the fight against the damned... okay, he did. But only when they were on the winning side, and definitely not to the degree he saw. For another, it had _never_ happened. Not to him. Not throughout all the years of his living, even including his years down in the pit. It was unnerving. As much as he was glad he didn't have the dream again. Just remembering it was enough to unsettle him. When those moments hit, the one thing that calmed him. The only thing he could cling to- was that it had to be Michael messing with him. Maybe he was messing with his head. Something. Because what else could it be?

As they roll into Carthage, the eerie silence is what gets to Dean first, even before they've entered city limits. It's something he can't really describe, this sense of knowing, and is glad Sam hasn't caught on enough to question. And even if he did, this was neither the time nor place. This heavy set feeling grows as they reach Main St. Checking his cell for service is just a formality as far as he's concerned. Something big is going down. The feeling only solidifies when Cas goes missing, along with the ice cold feeling in his gut. They turn a random corner. At this point he doesn't know if they're looking for Cas or the Devil.

"There you are." An oily drawl calls. The four spin around, recognition already in Dean's eyes.

"Meg!" Sam says trying to smother the surprise in his voice.

"Shouldn't have come here boys." The demon replies, that ever present smirk on her face. He raises the colt.

"Hell, I could say the same thing to you." He threatens. The confidence he exudes a front because there is something wrong here.

"Didn't come here alone, Deano." Meg tuts, shooting a glance to her side. That's when he hears it. Something that he shouldn't be able to hear. A canines growl. He stills. Something is definitely wrong here, and its not just the situation they're in.

"Hellhounds!" He shouts, more to let the others know, a little to let out the pent of panic that is building in his chest.

"Yeah Dean. Your favourite." She teases as she leans forward. The Colt doesn't seem to scare her. Though he can tell she's uneasy, even though the others cannot. "Come on boys, my father wants to see you." she adds all casual like.

"I think we'll pass." Sam retorts. Dean wonders why. It's the reason they're here after all, but he plays along nonetheless.

"Your call. You can make this easy. Or you can make this really really hard." Meg replies. The playful tone never gone from her stolen voice. He's not about to make the decision here. Dean casts a glance Ellen's way; seeing as Sam hasn't decided to speak again. She gives about a subtle a nod she can.

"When have you ever known us to make anything easy?" He drawls as soon as he has Meg's eyes again. Not that she's really looked anywhere else. Snap decision, he shoots where he definitely knows a hellhound is. Dark blood sprays from the entry wound. He isn't the only one to notice this time.

"Run!" Sam shouts.

The four head in the opposite direction. Dean takes up the rear. Fighting fear as the growls grow ever closer. As much as he wants to, he knows he won't speed up. Jo is the slowest of their group. He senses it when one leaps at him. When it tackles him to the ground. He expects to feel pain where it's biting him on his ankle, but there is nothing. In fact, it almost feels like he's being dragged back.

"Dean!" The one he was trying to protect yells.

"Jo! Stay back!" he orders, trying to shake the damn hound off. The Harvelle doesn't listen, instead aiming her shotgun and firing. The weight on his legs is gone and he rushes to stand so they can reach Sam and Ellen. But Jo keeps firing and shes walking closer to the others.

"_No!_" Ellen howls when Jo goes down. Dean runs over, stooping down to pick her up. He's surprised when the hellhound doesn't try for another go. But forgets about it as Sam fires in his direction. He wastes no time in reaching Ellen while Sam continues to potshot down the street. It's only as he's setting Jo down that it hits him. What Cas was saying. How this was there last day on earth. He hadn't believed it till now.

Dean almost can't make himself move when they're heading out of the building. Ellen and Jo still inside. But they have to do this. They round the corner when the building explodes. It's Sam who gets him to move. That breaks him out of his stupor. He's not the only one feeling the loss, and he needs a clear head going into this. Because from here on, it was a sprint to the finish line.

~o~

He waits for his cue, or maybe he just waits until he has the nerve to break cover. Either way, he doesn't know how Sam can do it. To just walk in like that. With how he's feeling right now, he finds it hard enough to even move, his limbs are so stiff. With the Devil that close, his nerves shot, there is one saving grace- the ice in his chest. As fear-inducing as that feeling is, it's keeping him grounded. It doesn't give him time to over think. So when he gets an opening he just can't resist, he moves in.

"...I'll never hurt you. Not really."

"Well, I'd hurt you. So suck it." He doesn't know why Lucifer didn't sense him getting so close. But when he looks at him for the first time, something shifts in that devil may care attitude. Surprise for one. But something else. Something warm. Dean doesn't give him a chance to speak before he squeezes the trigger. Lucifer falls down dead.

A connection that he didn't realize withers. It's almost smothering before he gets it under control. The ice cold feeling he's had all day is gone. He could almost say it's relief. But then Lucifer is getting up again, and he realizes suddenly that he's way too close. That the Colt didn't work. That he basically served Sammy on a silver platter. That he's going to die.

~ o ~

Lucifer doesn't know how to respond getting shot to the head with the Colt. Well, he knows what he would have done, if the person who shot him was really supposed to be Michael's vessel- would have back handed him into the nearest tree. But the indignation that he should have been feeling wasn't present. He didn't feel angry, or even annoyed. In fact, he felt positively elated at seeing him. Not Sam who was standing down the way. He couldn't have cared less this very moment. No, it was the one who managed to get this close. The one who shot him point blank. He gets up and stares at the individual before him. Eagerly stretches his senses forward only to recoil when he feels how human he is.

"What is this?" He asks, wanting so much to brush his hand against that chiseled jaw. "How have you become like this?" Lucifer wants to demand, but doesn't know if he really has the right to. Instead, he reads his mind, a lot of which is blocked to him. He gets a name and that's pretty much it.

"Wah?" _Dean_ says in utter confusion, stepping back to put some distance between them. He follows that extra step but stops when Dean tenses like a cornered animal; he steps back.

"I won't hurt you." He practically coo's. His voice a lot more sincere then when he spoke those words to Sam. Dean seems to have noticed the tone and glances down to... wait that couldn't be- siblings?

Lucifer shoots looks between the two- _Winchesters. _Eyes chilling with jealousy.

"You want _me_ don't you?" Sam taunts, gaining attention while Dean rushes to be by _his_ side. He holds back the possessive urge to keep the older with him. Eyes darkening, he turns back to what he was set to do.

"If you'll just wait a second I'm on the clock as it were." he says with as much pleasantness he can at the surprising turn of events. Raising his hands he gets ready for the ritual. It's okay, he'll deal with them in a minute. It's not like they can run anywhere fast enough to allude him. So it's okay.

Just as he's about to begin he whips around at the sound of wings and he's just in time to witness _Castiel_ whisk _his_ Winchester away. He bites back the growl of outrage. As much as he would like to chase them he really is on the clock.

He speaks the first few words of the incantation.

He'll just have to put more effort in finding them then. Waiting six months just won't do.

~o~

They're safe, and it takes a moment for that thought to even sink in. Cas, God-Bless him, winged them to their car before winging them all well out of city limits. Dean's leaning against the Impala, back to the other two. He doesn't want to see how drained this might have made Cas, and he definitely doesn't want to start on the inquisition Sam has planned. He knows what that first question is going to be. It's going to be the only question that matters. And it's going to be something he can't answer because he's wondering it too.

A car zooming passed them on the interstate has Dean wishing Cas would just zap them to Bobby's salvage yard. But he doesn't know if angels, if Lucifer, might be able to trace something like that. After all, it's how they found Crowley. Which suddenly has Dean on edge. He'll need to ask Cas if he knows about something that would keep him hidden like that; safe. Much like the sigils branded on his chest.

"What the hell was that all about?" Sam asks as soon as he has his equilibrium back. Castiel looks at him with confusion before settling his heavy gaze on his charge. Ellen and Jo are no longer with them, and Dean is uninjured. He would like to know the same.

"I have no idea." Dean replies just as the silence is about to stretch too long. He keeps his back turned wanting to avoid the twin stares burning into him. He hopes they don't notice the shaking and weakness in his limbs. But he knows that's only wishful thinking on his part.

A/N

BWAHA! Second chapter! XD I have to say I was almost stumped when it came to continuing this fic. But... I FOUND IT. My long lost MUSE has come back to me. :D Hopefully it stays awhile and I can update a few of the other fics I have on here. :) So how did you like it? Do tell. This might be the ticket in keeping that MUSE around.

As always I hope you enjoyed the read! :P

XII


	3. Chapter 3

Sam knew things were bad when the dream visits by Lucifer stopped. No more shallow promises. No sweet nothings. They just stopped and he knew deep down that he hadn't had one since before Carthage. Since after Dean and the fallen angel's face off; if you could have even called it that. It was unnerving.

The questioning he'd had prepared to grill Dean with hadn't gone as he'd wished. Dean had instead fired question after question at Cas as they drove the something and a half hours back to South Dakota. Asking the angel if he had ways to hide himself like he could hide them with their sigil'd ribs. After a moment of contemplation Castiel had admitted that he had not thought of that. He knew of a way. It would take time for him to locate the means. The hesitancy in which he spoke didn't comfort the younger brother.

"Dean?" He called to the other bed. Sam didn't know why he was trying to wake his older brother. Dean hadn't been getting enough sleep as it were. Maybe it was because he looked to be sleeping so deeply. Something he hadn't done in so long. Mostly it was because he was sure Dean was now receiving the nocturnal visits and knowing Dean his brother wouldn't mention anything unless there were no other option; even then he'd have to practically pull teeth to get confirmation. "_Dean_?"

"What is it Sammy?" his brothers sleep ladden voice replied.

"Nevermind. It's nothing." Sam whispered as he watched Dean fallen instantly back asleep. He'd ask Castiel instead. He'd probably be able to get something out of Dean better then he could anyway. And no. That did not inspire jealousy.

~o~

The bloodlines that were special- The ones that allowed Angels to house in their bodies- were numerous. Allowing every angel in heaven to come to earth if need be. The catch though depended on their chosens compatibility. Not everyone would get their true vessel. The closest one can achieve is most common- Castiel and his Jimmy Novak for instance. For those of an arcangels rank it was more tricky. No matter how true a vessel, damage would always be bestowed upon it's flesh and mind. Although true that a small amount of time in a vessel would limit the amount of damage, the corresponding angel would have to have cared not to inflict damage.

No... true compatibility was perfection; much like Gabriel's host. The vessel and the Angel- one in the same. Water and water. Two pieces connected seamlessly. This kind of fusion could only take hold with the being God had made only once. Sealed with a kiss.

No other had come after despite the hopeful longing his and his brethren had breathed. This gift that had been bestowed upon Michael. This special being that had the ability to merge two destined life forms so seamlessly. That could augment another's power exponentially. That could exist on earth without a vessel.

It was because of him that Gabriel had managed to escape Heaven as he did after Lucifer's fall. Purely by accident too. The Fae called him the Bright One. Having already deserted Heaven a short time after Lucifer's Fall, and having become quite attuned to the "Heavenly Ones", sensing Gabriel's mad dash for freedom was like a flash grenade going off in your face. It was that noticeable for him. Still so new to the ways of man, even in his second incarnation, he had sought him out.

~o~

_Gabriel could remember exactly how he felt the moment he set eyes on this strange human being. The first one he'd laid eyes on since finding his true vessel. This man walking ever so calmly towards him. A human who didn't look comfortable in his own skin; like he was still getting used to his body though he looked in his prime. _

_The angel had immediately thought demon, knowing a few stragglers still roamed earth. His senses on the other hand told him human despite the obvious awkwardness the man possessed. Undecided on how he should greet this, he nevertheless remained alert as the figure grew closer. With the slow walk the man utilized, Gabriel was able to scrutinize at his will; not that he would allow the human being to influence how he should act. _His_ skin was a dark tone, not native to the area, with hair as black as pitch that hung to his shoulders in loose curls. _His_ clothes were as simple as his own were. Still so new to this plain of existence Gabriel couldn't help but feel the human reaction of fight or flight. It was the man's body language that put him on edge more than anything. And with the power to smite, he was but a hair trigger away. That is, until he glimpsed those impossibly green eyes; eyes he'd only ever seen on one._

"_Limlal?__" Gabriel gasped. What? How? The last he'd ever seen of him had been during the war. _

_The man frowned. "I thought you had come for me." _He_ replied. "This is not true?"_

_Still unable to look away, and honestly still that side of speechless, he merely shook his head no._

_The man looked to the skies. The bright light of noon shining down on the special being. _

"_Then another reason." This was a statement, and Gabriel had no qualms about it. Ever since _his_ disappearance from heaven, an all out search had been issued. _He_ hadn't been located. To find _him_- to have _him_ approach him seemingly out of the blue meant something. "You are hiding."_

"_I am." The angel admitted._

"_You are not hidden enough." It took a moment for Gabriel to understand what _he_ meant. Until the younger man gestured to his body. "You are still so very bright."_

_He looked down at himself. Bright? He was concealing his grace- he even felt heavier because of it. His host was practically at the forefront of his mind. The resultant damage from the possession would be minimal as long as he refrained from the use of his grace. _

"_I will help." _He_ smiled for the first time. "It is what friends do, is it not?"_

_The implications of this very offer hit Gabriel full on the chest. He wasn't given time to voice his thoughts on the matter. _

Gabriel jerked awake from his lazy boy. A rerun of Giligan's Island playing on his flatscreen. He immediately snapped himself a cup of scotch. The taste more than anything able to soothe his nerves; as getting drunk was impossible for him. After his third cupful he finally let himself think about the recollection. A memory he'd thought long buried in the depths of his subconscious. A memory he willingly put under lock and key because of the personal hurt he'd gained after the meeting.

After an internal debate that had him wishing for another option, he finally decided perhaps he needed to pay Team Freewill a visit. After all, he had a strong feeling Castiel maybe able to help him with something. What that something was, was something he was afraid to voice even in his thoughts.

A/N

XD Finally posted the chapter! ^_^ I've actually had this done awhile ago but had no internet in which to post. -_- Hopefully I'll have more updates this year then last, yes? :3 Anyway, tell me your thoughts! Good? Bad? The next chapter is going to be a bit of a doozy. O_O I kind of dread it.

I hope you enjoyed the read nevertheless.

XII


End file.
